


The New Doctrine

by Marzi



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Abuse, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other, Recovery, Sisterhood, Spiritualism, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, autonomy, catharthis, domestic abuse, family bonds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-01-11 22:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18433001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzi/pseuds/Marzi
Summary: Starting a new church is a difficult process, so is unpacking a lifetime or trauma.





	1. The Solstice

**Author's Note:**

> So I found the new season/second half of the season/part 2 whatever the fuck they call it, to be pretty fucking lacking. So after ranting a lot on my tumblr I'm finally getting to the fic of it. Woo.
> 
> While the characters are going to be discussing their various traumas and dealing with fallout of them, I am not going to be graphically describing anything actually occurring to them. I am also not doing too much research into the actual, existing real world religious canons that deal with Lilith as a biblical figure as I kind of want to avoid discussing any one in particular. Still, it is not a topic that can exactly be avoided given the content of the show, and some of the stuff I want to try and deal with in this story. What I'm basically getting at is I'm sure we all have various preconceived notions about Lilith, and I'm kinda gunna throw it all into a blender and do my own thing.

 

With the house full of recovering witches and warlocks, Zelda went to the desecrated church. Her home at the mortuary felt like a way station at the moment. With the confluence of changes in the hierarchy of the Church of Night, and the general uncertainty of those under its roof, the whole place was in a strange state of flux. Spells and emotions were going awry. It wasn't that they stood at a crossroads so much as they had made a choice and were now walking down an unknown path. Zelda knew a new order was to arise, she was just unsure of how to make it happen. As the self-appointed high priestess, it was her duty to see it through.

 

She hadn't returned to the church since she and Ambrose had teleported the survivors out. Now, standing outside of it, she wasn't sure she wanted to go in. This had once been a place of comfort to her. Of worship and community, the central point of her coven, the only other outside the Academy. Zelda imagined even the enchanted walls of Gehenna Station would feel strange. She had grown as a witch in these places, discovered who she was, and now, they were hollow. Was it the Dark Lord-- Lucifer's, binding that had made them so? Blackwood's madness? The presence of the witch hunters? Or something else? She walked to the doors, stopping short of being able to reach them. They would need a place to meet that wasn't her living room, why not reclaim the old places?

 

Zelda frowned at the doors, the shadows seemed long and gnarled with the sun beginning to set. It looked like the doors were bared with vines of shadow. She let her focus drift down to her feet, where her shoes sunk softly into the old grass. Was it too early to ask for some kind of sign? Did Lilith even care about what was happening up here? Now that she had her crown and her throne, what did she make of those left behind? Would she laugh at the church Zelda hoped to build? The coven needed guidance, and Zelda was not certain hers would be enough. Hilda could always help, Sabrina would be sure to be full of ideas, while Ambrose had gone off on his quest, but if Zelda was to do something like this without a guiding hellfire she would have preferred to have _all_ of her family together.

 

She reached for the handle when a loud screech caused her to jolt back. A massive owl had been lurking in the shadows under the roof's overhang, and now peered down at her, yellow eyes seeming to glow.

 

“Bit early for you to be out, isn't it?”

 

The owl spread its wings and took off, swooping low and nearly brushing the furred edge of her coat. As far as signs went, it was one Zelda was at least willing to indulge. Leaving the church behind her with a far too potent sense of relief, she followed the owl back into the woods. The beast was unearthly quiet, the sound of its wings a bare whisper to her ears, and Zelda was fairly certain when it flew through shadows it popped back out of ones much further off. Its eyes were two unnaturally bright lanterns that provided enough of a trail when she thought she lost sight of it.

 

The sun had nearly finished setting when she and her new companion came to a clearing. It was like many that littered these woods, and she saw no altars or stones, or hedges concealing warrens of unnatural beasts. It was simply a place in the woods, the only unusual thing about it was the owl and Zelda's own presence.

 

She looked up at her guide. “Well? I'll have you know I have done quite enough mouse catching lately and do not intend to do anymore of it.”

 

The owl had settled on a high branch, and once it closed its eyes seemed to melt into the shadows. It offered no response.

 

“Right.” Zelda sighed, put her hands on her hips and walked around the clearing. She heard nothing strange, and there was no pull on her senses, occult or otherwise. Occasionally she would look from the corner of her eye towards the owl, who at her best guess was still perched above her. Was she supposed to pray? Leave an offering? For what? With what?

 

Eventually Zelda moved to stand in the center of the clearing, and with nothing more than a slight grimace, adjusted her skirt so that she might sit on the forest floor. It wasn't the best place she had ever taken a contemplative rest, though it was a nice change of pace from the crowded house, and it wasn't a yawning gaping pit of mixed memories like the church. She closed her eyes and thought of nothing, which seemed the easiest thing at the moment as it had been all she had managed the past week aside from the necessary duties of caring for the ill.

 

When she opened her eyes full night had descended, the half-moon barely illuminating the clearing around her. She hadn't a hope in heaven of spotting that owl, if it was still there. “What am I doing?” She put one hand down in the carpet of forest debris to help push herself up and froze. The earth was unnaturally warm under her palm. While the land was beginning to reawaken for the coming spring, this was unusual. She curled her fingers and they readily sank into the earth, making it a simple task to lift a palm of rich, dark earth up to examine. She loosed her fingers and the damp soil clung to her skin a moment before falling. Zelda had done enough gardening in her life to know fertile earth when she saw it. But why this clearing?

 

She dusted off her hands and got to her feet, surprised to see the lantern like eyes of the owl still present above her. Zelda stared at the beast a long moment before smiling. “Is there anything in particular you want planted?”

 

The owl flew down on silent wings, but didn't land. Lilith peered at her from between the trees. Where the Dark Lord-- where Satan had always manifested in harsh light and clouds of sulfur, she seemed to be peeking from the shadows as if they were veils. “No.”

 

“Why this place?”

 

“This clearing doesn't matter.”

 

Zelda sighed in an attempt to banish the sudden irritation in her chest. “Then why take me here?”

 

“I don't need temples. I do not need to take your souls from a collection plate, it is my blood that made witches and it is my blood you all still carry. You hold me within you, no matter where you walk.”

 

The genesis of witches was something the Satanic Bible attributed to as a union between Lucifer and Lilith. It was a tale surrounded in much metaphor, hyperbole, and torn to pieces by theological debate. Every witch and warlock knew they were not as mortals were, but much of that power was ascribed to their signing the Book of the Beast. With a start, Zelda realized she suddenly had a chance to hear the tale from the one who lived it. There was so much she could learn, if Lilith deigned to teach it.

 

“Our bodies are your temples?”

 

“Your bodies are _your own_.” There was something bitter and disgusted in her voice, the words sudden and harsh.

 

Zelda took an instinctive step back. There was a moment of silence where Zelda wondered if the new Queen of Hell was embarrassed by her own outburst.

 

“I am one piece of you.” Lilith's voice had grown calm and measured again.

 

“And the earth?”

 

“I scratched my first taste of freedom from barren stone. You've a garden, don't waste it.” Then she was gone.

 

Zelda wasn't sure if that could have gone better or worse. At least now she knew Lilith was watching.

 

* * *

 

 

Hilda was brewing up something in the kitchen, humming to herself, and Zelda threw her small cup of espresso across the room so that it shattered against the wall. The line of people in the kitchen that stretched out into the living room waiting for breakfast all turned to stare. Zelda was still behind her newspaper, reading as if nothing had happened.

 

“A bit of quiet is in order this morning, I think.” She turned to the next page.

 

Sabrina's mouth hung open but Hilda just smiled before speaking. “Right, I think we'll all retire to the greenhouse to eat today, what do you all say to that?”

 

“Aunty Zee!” Sabrina was more surprised than outraged, focus traveling from the smear of coffee on the wall back to the one who had thrown it.

 

“Now now love, your aunt asked for some quiet. I think we should give it to her.” Hilda picked up her large pot from the stove and ushered everyone, niece included, out of kitchen.

 

It was a temporary fix. Having Lilith tell her there was no need for temples was well and good for putting together new doctrine, but that didn't solve her housing crisis. Zelda had briefly considered buying a local paper and actually looking at the classifieds, before quickly talking herself out of it. They needed a new space, but it was also safer to have everyone under the same roof, at least for the time being.

 

With the house full up, Hilda had moved back into Zelda's room. It wasn't something either of them had really discussed, it had simply happened. Some days it grated on her already frazzled nerves, other days, like today, like most nights, she needed it. When she woke up in the dark with that faint music box lullaby at the edge of her consciousness, choking on her own screams, Hilda would miraculously be awake. She would turn on her night lamp, and get some reading done. Quiet reading. Like moving everyone to another part of the house, it was a temporary fix.

 

Humming had never set her off before, but Zelda supposed she had been too caught up in her thoughts to notice it most days.

 

When she finished her newspaper she cleaned up the mess she made and sat back down at the table to light a cigarette. Without her coffee she would need a few extra today. Eventually, Hilda rejoined her, taking the seat on the other side of the table.

 

“There's too many people in this house.”

 

“Yes, it is a bit tight quarters right now, but we'll make due. We can go back the Academy--”

 

“No.” Zelda was nearly surprised by the vehemence in her own voice. She hadn't returned to the desecrated church since learning of its uselessness, and she hadn't bothered with returning to the Academy. That place hadn't been specifically mentioned in her little chat in the woods, but she didn't like it all the same.

 

“Uh... may I ask why?”

 

“It's not... it's not ours anymore.”

 

“It seems that way, doesn't it? But we stood up to those witch hunters, we don't have to let them linger. A bit of a cleansing spell, some tidying up-”

 

“It's not the witch hunters.”

 

“No... no it's not. Zelds, you know I'm here, right, if you need to talk?”

 

One hand was clutching her cigarette holder, the other was resting on the table. Hilda reached out and laced their fingers together. She didn't pull her hand away.

 

* * *

 

 

Zelda hadn't mentioned her little chat with Lilith. She wasn't sure which selfish impulse made her hold on to it, keep it secret. Didn't the others deserve to know their queen was watching over them? That she was a part of them? Zelda's devotion had always been a part of her, a core part that she had built her identity around. The fact that faith had nearly destroyed everything she cared about was something she was still living through. She was still figuring out the bounds of the new devotion, the tattered bits of the old weighing her down.

 

Lilith had talked about freedom, but Zelda was still trapped in a knotted web. They had defeated the Dark Lord himself and they were cowering. They were cowering in her house and she didn't know where to take them. She wasn't sleeping and Hilda had read through her trashy novel three times. Sabrina took those who were willing to Baxter High with her, most were still uncomfortable around mortals. Some days, the house was less suffocating than others. As crowded as things were she often thought about those that weren't there. The dead among them, but mostly she thought about Ambrose, and Purdence. Of Leticia and her baby brother. Agatha and Dorcas said their sister was still alive, still searching.

 

There was a monster out there and they were doing everything they could to stop it. Zelda wanted them under her roof, under her protection, but she could never ask them stop what they were doing. Wouldn't want them to. She couldn't recall the last time she had wanted two conflicting things so badly. She was able to talk to Hilda about that at least, hear her murmured worries and praises in turn.

 

Eventually, she gathered up enough courage one night to ask, “What should we do?” She knew it wasn't what her sister hoped she would talk about, but it was enough of a start.

 

Hilda for her part, took her time to answer. “It's the spring solstice tomorrow. I think a walk would be lovely.”

 

“A walk.” She weighed the concept on her tongue. “You know Hilda, I think you're right. And I know just the place.”

 

Getting everyone out of the house, together, was a big gulp of fresh air, and not just because they were in the woods. They all had felt the itch to do something, and now, for a moment, they had a set goal. The clearing was much the same as she remembered it, innocuous, unimportant in the long run. She could have taken them to any place between the trees and made the same point, but sometimes you needed symbols. It was why she had taken the snake egg with her when she left the house.

 

When it became clear they weren't going to be walking any further, all eyes turned to Zelda. Hilda beamed and gave her a thumbs up, which made her roll her eyes. Sabrina hid a laugh behind her hand. This was her first address to the coven as their high priestess. She scanned the trees for a pair of luminous eyes, but saw nothing. Yes well, she never liked having someone looming over her shoulder anyway.

 

“It was Lilith who walked away from the Garden to forge her own path. Yet she returned there, in the form of a snake, to offer the truths she found outside its walls to those still trapped within. We weren't held ignorant in a garden, but we were still made blind and bound. Now we have a chance to walk our own path, to wield freedom and knowledge.” There weren't enough of them that she had to worry about her words not reaching anyone. Her voice carried clear and calm across the whole clearing. It was soothing to begin to fill the purpose she had set for herself. “All of us here have a chance to create something wonderful, together. To learn together. May we never blind ourselves with ignorance again.”

 

Zelda took the snake egg from her pocket and planted it in the warm earth. Somewhere in the dark, an owl screeched.

 


	2. Leveling the Earth

There was one evening when Zelda sank into the bath, water hot enough to turn her skin pink on contact, and stayed until it grew cold. Once she was shivering, she scrubbed herself until she was pink and hot again. Eventually Hilda's hesitant knock on the door got her out. There was a line of impatient witches and warlocks who had been hoping to use the facilities. Hilda hurried her into their room before anything more than disgruntled looks could be exchanged.

 

Addressing everyone in the woods had been one step forward, and while Zelda knew what she wanted their next one to be, she still teetered on the edge of doing it. There was just one particular haunting specter keeping her from doing it. This beast would not be easily appeased, nor snared with grave dirt, and Zelda hated that. Hated it. Hated him. Her throat locked up when it shouldn't, and she sat in silence. It seemed quiet and stuffy in her room, even with all of Hilda's fussing. She could hear the groans of the house, the creaks in the floorboards as too many people moved across it. She heard skittering in the walls, though she was certain they were just in her mind. Mice had never infested the house before.

 

Hilda talked about a new tincture she was working on, and it was harmless babble along with the rest of the noise. She talked about maybe getting a new dressing gown. She talked about their water and heating bill, which surely would be ridiculous if they were connected to such mortal things. She talked, and talked, and eventually Zelda's throat and jaw loosened.

 

“We're going out in the morning,” she said after Hilda finished her next anecdote.

 

“Oh? Another group trip? That'll do everyone good. Another walk, you think?”

 

“Not everyone. Not immediately. Just us.”

 

“Alright.”

 

They set out in the morning after breakfast. Sabrina had the coven and her mortal friends in the living room. Both parties were staring at each other with trepidation, despite the familiarity of those who had already ventured into the mortal world. Zelda told her there would be no jumping from the roof under any circumstances, and left her to whatever else she was doing. Ignorance and fear of the mortal world could only hurt them further, what with their reduced numbers. If they had to learn to integrate into mortal society to keep safe, than Sabrina would be the best teacher they could possible get. Hilda followed after giving her own quick, encouraging wave to all assembled.

 

Her outward enthusiasm dampened somewhat when they arrived outside Gehenna Station. “You know, I didn't think to bring anything for a cleansing.”

 

“I have something else in mind.”

 

Zelda marched forward and threw open both academy doors. It was impossible not to be greeted with his statue, though it seemed someone else had already tried their hand at defacing it. Prudence or Ambrose? It didn't matter. Most of the damnable thing was still there. She walked across the mosaic tiled floor until she was right in front of it. Hilda's steps echoed much slower behind her.

 

“A moment alone sister, if you would?”

 

“Right. I'll just go... check the library then.”

 

Zelda waited until she couldn't hear her footsteps anymore. She waited until it was quiet, until the silence was only disrupted by the blood pounding in her ears. Her hands shook and her heart hammered against her ribs. She opened her mouth, and for a moment, she couldn't speak. Air didn't even pass through her lungs. Then, she started screaming.

  
  
She screamed at the stones just to hear her own voice echo back at her. She screamed until the statue was broken slag at her feet, and her nails were chipped and torn. She screamed because she could. She screamed until the jagged stonework was coarse sand under her shoes. She screamed to fill the silence. She screamed because she felt like it.

  
  
Hilda came running, eyes wide with panic.

 

  
Zelda stopped at the sight of her. She was still shaking, but it felt now like anticipation rather than dread. Her voice didn't shake or crack when she spoke. She didn't feel raw for all her wailing. She felt awake. "Did you hear me?"

  
  
"The dead bloody heard you, are you alright? What's happened?" When she didn't spot anyone, her steps became much slower, more wary.

  
  
Zelda couldn't keep the smile from breaking across her face, though her fingers still shook as she brushed the tears from her face. Relief. She was so relieved. "You heard me."

  
  
"I- yes, yes I did."

  
  
Zelda sank into her sister's arms and they both ended up on the floor. She cried. They were great gushing sobs until they weren't, until she was laughing. Just laughing, and clutching her sister tighter to her chest. Hilda's arms stayed secure around her, and eventually her own hiccoughing giggles joined Zelda's mirth. She pulled back from the hug, still seated on the floor, keeping one arm around Hilda. She could be fine with others holding her, but generally she wasn't one to cling. In that moment of just letting herself be close to her, it was a very pleasant reminder of her long standing place at her side. Hilda was rubbing at her own runny face, sniffing through the last of her giggles, and Zelda just smiled at her.

 

“You know I'm always going to hear you? Even if you annoy me. Especially then.”

 

Zelda laughed again. “I know.” She had taken one look at her and known what Faustus had done. She would always be grateful for that. “Thank you.”

 

“You're my sister. You don't have to thank me.”

 

“My being your sister has nothing to do with it.” She delicately brushed her thumb over Hilda's tear smudged make-up, doing her best to help her look a bit more presentable. She didn't even want to think about the sight she made right then. “You wouldn't leave anyone like that.”

 

“Never.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Hilda ducked her head at the continued praise, and tugged at the edge of Zelda's coat. “We've made a bit of a mess.” She prodded the sand around them. “Going to take more than a broom to fix this.”

 

“Certainly.” She sniffed, the crying was done, for now. “But that can wait until later.” She got to her feet and then pulled Hilda up after her. "I need you to gather everyone at the desecrated church."

  
  
"Are you sure?"

  
  
"Yes. Yes, I'll be fine. I'll join you there."

 

Hilda nodded, but before she released her hand she gave her fingers another affectionate squeeze. “You know I'm proud of you Zelds? First High Priestess of the Church of Lilith. Quite the honor.”

 

“I couldn't have done it without you.”

 

“I think you would have, but it's much better with me by your side, isn't it?”

 

“Yes, and don't _ever_ let me forget that.”

 

“I won't.”

 

She smiled, lips pressed together tightly so she wouldn't start crying again. “I promise not to regret asking that.”

 

Hilda huffed, and hiccuped what might have been another small sob or bit of laughter. “Just go back to giving orders. You were made for it.”

 

* * *

  
  
Hilda had everyone in place outside the desecrated church after dinner. The mortals had been politely encouraged to rejoin them at a later date, and Sabrina had wisely not protested her aunt's decree. This was for the coven, any outsiders would not understand what needed to be done. Of course, even the coven seemed uncertain at first. Outside the heavy, rotten doors, shadows still creeping up its walls like plants, they held their collective breath. When Zelda ripped the handles from their moorings, it didn't take them long to figure out what was happening. This was the place witch hunters had slit their throats. This was the place Blackwood had betrayed them. To Zelda, this was the place her niece had died. Her throat itched in memory of her earlier outburst, and she didn't stay silent long.

 

Not everyone screamed like she did, was. Some were silent, determined, focused on the one place that haunted them. Splinters and nails were sent upwards, and once the floorboards were broken, dirt began to scatter in the air along with the rest of the debris. The podium was kicked to mulch. Hilda dumped the contents of a bottle on a tapestry that slowly began to unravel. The moans of their combined grief shattered the stained glass. Sabrina stood in the center aisle, still among the chaos, and Zelda wondered if that was where....

 

Sabrina stomped her foot and the whole building shuddered. The entirety of the coven were tearing out its supports, and the howling rattled the boards as much as their fists, but Zelda could just see Sabrina's foot coming down as if it were the epicenter of an earthquake. Her niece, always at the center of something, but at least from that thundering step forward on to the next, she would hopefully not be alone as she had been. None of them should have to fear paranoia and isolation from their own kind. They should not have to scramble across or through each other to grab at scraps. For a moment in their frenzied assault of the church, they stopped being many grasping hands and became one, singular, heavy force. They writhed along the walls until it was rubble, then they jumped on the splinters until it was all mud. Hilda led a number of them in a great circular dance like from the old rituals, but instead of clutching ribbons and pillars they held each other.

 

Where their last journey out together had given them a sense of purpose, it was relief that now eased along their muscles and lifted the weight from their bones. Their faith would do more than bind them, it would support them. This was a bacchanal of grief and rage, leaving them all lightheaded and giddy once the sourness had been purged from their bodies.

 

When they stumbled and swayed away from the site of their revelry, nothing remained of the church.

 

The house was quiet when they returned, and exhaustion quickly carried everyone into what was surely a dreamless sleep. Zelda stayed by the fire in the parlor, keeping it lit by hand even when a simple spell would have sufficed. Hilda had soothed enough of her nightmares, tonight was her turn to vigil for those under her care. Some great weight had uncoiled from her chest, and despite the day's exertions she felt more than ready for the task she had set herself. The floors and walls shifted and sighed with the wind, but there were no phantom feet in the walls. No mice huddling in the spaces in-between. An impossible shadow did spool itself out across one of the other chairs in the room. In each shudder between an ember popping towards the chimney, Lilith stared at her from the darkness.

 

“Quite the spectacle today.”

 

“They needed it.” Zelda rubbed her fingers along the arm of her chair, torn nails catching on loose threads and pulling them free. “We needed to clear the land.”

 

“Salt works well.”

 

“Some wounds don't need to burn.” It was only after the words left her mouth that she wondered if she should be arguing with her new patron, but Lilith simply laughed. It didn't seem mocking, but there was something almost resigned to it. Like a parent laughing at a child because of something foolish they said, and if they didn't laugh, that child's heart might break. Zelda prodded the fire to give her hands something to do, and for an excuse to lean closer to the warmth of the flames. “You told me not to waste the garden.”

 

“I did.” She seemed faintly surprised, as if she hadn't really thought Zelda had been listening, or maybe she had already forgotten her own words.

 

“What's growing in the clearing?” She had noticed something pushing its way up out of the earth, but she hadn't wanted to disturb it.

 

“I don't know.”

 

Zelda sat up straighter in her chair before forcing herself to relax. “That's...”

 

“Not what you wanted to hear?” Lilith still seemed amused about something.

 

Zelda turned in her chair, partly so that she could face her guest, and partly because the more firelight she blocked the easier it was to see Lilith. “You were with us in the clearing. Why weren't you at the church?”

  
  
For a moment, it seemed she wasn't going to get an answer, and then, "I've done all the yelling I care to."

  
  
"Was anyone listening?" She thought of the panic in Hilda's eyes at the academy.

  
  
"I beg your pardon?"

  
  
"You're the Queen of Hell, they should hear your screams.” The thought of that music box, its spinning doll, to be stuck upon a shelf and never heard of seen, but for when idle hands deigned to wind the key... Zelda waited for the sick feeling to fade from her stomach. There were softer, more prideful things to hope for an audience for anyway. If she had called herself high priestess where no one could hear, what would it have mattered? “Whether they are triumph, ecstasy or grief. They should hear you."

  
  
"They." Lilith rolled the generalization across her tongue. "Fuck them."

  
  
"Quite right.” She sounded very settled on the manner anyway. “But what about you?"

  
  
The Queen of Hell's jaw was tight, whole body tense, holding just at the edge. "I'm done with them."

  
  
"But what about you?" Zelda repeated. It was probably the first time someone had ever asked her such a simple question. She would repeat herself as many times as needed.

 

Lilith's head titled slightly, and her gaze found Zelda's again slowly. Her eyes still seemed to glow, even without the firelight reflecting in them. Zelda's heart stuttered a moment in her chest as she realized Lilith was studying her, trying to understand her ulterior motive.

 

She nearly whispered her next question. “What do you want?”

 

That seemed easier for her to understand, wants, desires, cravings, a little piece of selfishness. Lilith nodded to herself, a smile nearly tugging at the edge of her lips. She didn't seem amused anymore, just sad.

 

“I think I'll just sit here, a moment longer.”

 

Zelda settled back more comfortably in her chair, knowing her queen was going to do the same. Lilith didn't make a single sound or speak again the rest of the night, but Zelda could feel the weight of her presence behind her right up until the sun rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just need part 3 of the show to be all about cathartics because damn are we missing some of that in canon right now.


	3. Recognition

  
Zelda was used to praying in the way someone was used to using hyperbole in speech, it made a point but it didn't really mean what it meant. Whatever her old habits, she wasn't sure what to make of the practice now. If she prayed, she knew someone was there, but was she listening? Could she even hear her? Lilith had taught them that Lucifer wasn't a god, that he wasn't all knowing, but what was their queen? She was the first woman, the first witch, but what did that mean? What did the crown give her? What had she already had?

 

When she had the time to spare, she would walk through the woods. There were no more supernatural owls, but she did keep finding the sprout from the clearing. The odd growth had a tendency to appear out of the corner of her eye whenever she thought about it too long. Zelda supposed it was a good thing that it wasn't rooted to one spot, but as she still didn't know what it was, she couldn't find it in herself to be too happy about its ability to appear everywhere either. However recovered she was, she was a bit done with surprises at the moment.

 

So when the damn thing appeared in the academy during their renovations, she wasn't sure if she was resigned or just irritated. She heard the others talk of the strange phenomena, saying it had a tendency to appear where they were taking down walls. As if it approved of the coming destruction, and created their first break in the marble by pushing itself up through the stone. Everyone but the mortuary's original occupants had decided to move into the academy dorms, and while Zelda was thankful to have her house back, she also spent most of her time out among the coven. It was a bit easier, to see them finally beginning to stretch back out into the world, but she wanted to be near in case anything happened. The sight of the remaining teachers, who all had homes still standing to return to, curled up on the narrow academy beds, told her she wasn't the only one who felt that way. They were still pushing past the last vestiges of their torpor, and she needed to be ready for when everyone truly found their feet.

 

They were following her for now, but how long would that last? Would it even matter if she could not give them something to follow? Once they were fully healed, what purpose was she to give them? They would all be learning, perhaps that was why she was so much more at ease in the academy with them. Especially since Faustus's statue was gone. Someone, or someones, had taken it upon themselves to deface his office as well. Zelda suspected Agatha and Dorcas, though considering there were a few Judas Boys still alive in the coven, it could just as easily have been them. Betrayal was a bitter beast to live with, hopefully the smashing of the former high priest things had quieted it.

 

For her part, her thoughts no longer stuttered over his name, and while thinking on him too long made her stomach grow cold, she did not find herself so easily distracted by the fading echoes of his presence in her life. She had bigger concerns now, namely Satan's influence in the thoughts of every witch and warlock under her care.

 

She had gathered up all the copies of the Satanic Bible she could find in the library, and laid them out on one table. The thought of burning them all brought about a fission of vindictive glee, but on the other hand, this was her peoples' heritage, corrupted though it was. If they willfully forgot the past, they would be doomed to repeat it.

 

Her well worn copy was on top of the pile, so she picked it up and sat down. She didn't open the cover, instead just ran her hands over the embossing on the front. The thin pages used to hold the world to her. If she opened it now, would she find dried leaves and the heavy scent of earth? Would that damned plant grow up through the foundations of everything? If she had known this would happen when she planted it.... Well, Zelda couldn't say for certain she wouldn't have done it. To be on the forefront of something so new was exhilarating. It was what Edward had done his whole life, and now here she was, doing it too. Had he been this terrified? Her brother had a tendency to sequester himself in his studies, if he ever had any truly great doubts, he had never shared them with her.

 

She had no interest in making that mistake. Perhaps she needed Hilda here with her while she decided what next to do. She threw her bible back on to the pile with a huff and crossed her arms. She didn't want to open it and find nothing.

 

“This place is starting to look different.”

 

They hadn't done much to the library yet beyond catalog what was taken or missing. Lilith must have toured the academy, or observed it in some manner. Zelda turned her head, and there she was, in the chair next to hers, looking somewhat clearer than she had in her last visits. Perhaps the ambient gloom made it easier for her to manifest. She leaned forward to look at the bibles rather than at Zelda.

 

“Considering a new curriculum?” The edge of her lip twitched at her own joke.

 

Her good mood eased Zelda's anxiety, somewhat. Her odd visits were just beginning to reach into companionable territory. “Realizing I have to write one.”

 

Lilith _hmm'd_. “Wardwell had been teaching so long, she had all hers written out. It made things easier.”

 

The mention of the mortal she had possessed surprised Zelda, but it did give her the chance to ask something that had been gnawing at the corner of her thoughts. "You still look like her."

  
  
Lilith leaned back into her chair. "I learned a lot as Mary Wardwell. Consider it my tribute to her success as an educator.”

 

Zelda smiled. “You were fond of her.”

 

Her hands tightened on the thin wooden arms of her chair. “I didn't know her.”

 

But she had learned something of herself while in her skin, and had to recognize and appreciate that whenever she saw her face. Zelda decided to keep that observation to herself. “I didn't either. Sabrina had mentioned her of course, but I never thought about meeting her.”

 

Lilith finally looked at her, and Zelda wondered if it was because this was the first time her niece had come up between them since Lucifer had been taken to hell. She just smiled again before looking back at the pile of bibles. “What are you going to do with them?”

 

A god who didn't know everything. It was going to take some getting used to. Perhaps praying really was out of the question, though since Zelda had stopped, she had started having some truly interesting conversations. Even if they were sometimes more frustrating than illuminating.

 

“Rewrite them. Or burn them. I don't know.” Lilith had said that enough, it seemed an acceptable answer now. _I don't know._ How horrifying a thought was that, to be left in the dark. Weren't they supposed to be leaving ignorance behind?

 

“It's your church. Do what you like.”

 

That gave Zelda pause. "You've accepted me as your high priestess." She had spoken on her behalf in that clearing, hadn't she?

  
  
Lilith arched one eyebrow. "You appointed yourself. I can appreciate ambition."

 

“That's it?” A part of her could not help but feel a little stung. If anyone stood up and said they were high priest, Lilith would simply shrug and allow it? There was nothing to the title but the declaration of it?

 

Lilith leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. “Would you prefer some symbolic trials to test your worthiness?”

 

Zelda's face grew hot with embarrassment. Was it so wrong to hope for a little praise, a little acknowledgment? When she had appeared to her in the woods as the owl, she had thought that meant something. She hadn't known what, but it had to have been _something_. “Some kind of sign that I am doing the right thing, surely.”

 

Her expression grew solemn. “No one can know for certain if they are doing the right thing.”

 

Zelda swallowed thickly. Where had she put her cigarettes? “You aren't one for assurances, are you?”

 

She sighed heavily. “What would you have me tell you to do that you have not already done yourself?”

 

“What?”

 

“Save your coven?”

 

“I-”

 

“Tear down the lies that bound them?”

 

“That was-

 

“Lead them to a new garden? Plant the first seed?”

 

“You've made your point.” Zelda wasn't sure if she was being mocked or praised, and it was difficult to sort how she felt about it. Her face was still hot and tears threatened the edges of her eyes. Was it relief? Terror?

 

“I told you I have no interest in temples, what made you think I wanted worship?”

 

Zelda ran a hand over her face, to clear her eyes as well as her thoughts. “Not even acknowledgment?”

 

That got her silence.

 

“You wanted a crown, but what about the people who come with it?” Zelda cultivated the little ember of rage that was growing inside of her, next words drenched in bitterness. “You said all witches were your blood.” Her indifference was a mother abandoning her children with less than a parting glance. Didn't she understand that they needed her?

 

Lilith's expression grew stormy, but her anger did not seem to be directed at Zelda. It was still enough to put her on edge. “I only knew one way to mold a person. I carved at the stone until it was dust and then mixed it with my blood to shape it as clay.” Her fingers flexed, as if remembering the action. “I was going to teach my daughter everything I had learned from being cast out.”

 

Zelda's anger stuck in her throat. This was one of the questions she had hoped to ask, but not in this manner. “What happened?” If she had wanted to be a teacher, why did she walk away from it now?

 

“She was killed.” A bitter smile flickered across her face, as if to say 'what else would have happened?' “A cleansing, the false god's wrath. I summoned hellfire for the first time with her name. I believed Lucifer when he told me the angels had come for her, and still I always wondered if he didn't deliver her himself.”

 

How did someone recognize betrayal when it was all they had known? When there was nothing else to compare it to, it could be given any name. What had Lucifer told her it was? Love? “He would allow no child but his own?”

 

“He can have no children.” The vindictiveness in Lilith's eyes was offset by some looming shadow in her memories. “Angels, fallen or otherwise, cannot produce offspring. Their creator did not will that to them.”

 

Be plentiful had been the false gods doctrine to his mortals, he had only ever told his angels to kneel. Yet Lucifer claimed witches and warlocks as his progeny, that he had stood against his father's wishes, and accomplished so much more. Yet how had Lilith's hands played in their making? If it was her labor, her blood....

 

“They can bestow miracles, or corruption, but they need a host.”

 

Such as a poor virgin, or a desperate warlock and his mortal wife.

 

“He told me, were I to make another child, that I should allow him to put his mark upon them. That they would be safe. That they would be saved from divine wrath by his love, by his watchful eye. He took them all from me, still red with blood, to carve his mark on their souls. To keep them safe.” There was an old longing in her words, as if she still wished that could be true. She ran her fingers over her face, and looked at her hands as if she had expected to find tears there. “And then he demanded an army to assist him with that task, and he called his beasts down on me.” Silence blanketed the library as Lilith was swallowed by her memories. Her next words were cold, and only added to the tension in the air. “No child in hell is his but by proxy.”

 

So the father of lies hadn't done what he had claimed. What else had Lilith endured, to make him feel powerful? Zelda blinked away the wetness clinging to her lashes. The anger burning in her chest was no longer directed at Lilith. Her voice sounded stronger than she felt. “Then why not let us call you what you are?”

 

Her anger was gone, and she just looked tired. Was this the first time she had ever told this story? She shifted in her chair, looking down at herself as if she had just remembered she had a body. Her head cocked to the side as she turned to Zelda, expression guarded, still free of tears. “And what am I?”

 

Zelda thought she had an answer on her tongue, but she hesitated. She was going about this the wrong way. This was a woman who had never had a sister, never had a mother, whose every child was killed or stolen from her, or forced upon her. That she was even talking to Zelda now was nothing short of a miracle. That she was even still alive was nothing less than amazing. What word did she have that could describe her? “What do you want us to call you?”

 

Lilith smiled, and Zelda was certain that was the first time she had seen her do it just for the sake of happiness. “What do I want.”

 

“Yes.”

 

She didn't hesitate in her answer. “I want them to figure it out for themselves.”

 

Zelda couldn't help it, she started laughing. It banished the tension in the air, put her body back at ease. “Our bodies and our minds for ourselves. Someone's going to want to know what we're giving up in exchange.”

 

Lilith was still smiling. “You already told them.”

 

“Of course.” _Now we have a chance to walk our own path, to wield freedom and knowledge. May we never blind ourselves with ignorance again._ “Giving up ignorance. Not too difficult a proposition, I would think.”

 

Her smile dimmed somewhat. “There is comfort in lies.”

 

Which made it so much easier to bear the knowledge that Lilith wasn't the comforting type. If she had concerns, she would tell her. Probably not all that politely. Zelda considered the path before her and nearly laughed again. Lilith was a teacher, her lessons were just a bit more broad than she was expecting. “Before, when you returned to the Garden. You tried to do what you're doing now. With the fruit, with Eve.”

  
Lilith smirked, for once it seemed caught up in a happier memory. "Yes, I gave her knowledge, though in a different manner." She reached out, hesitating just a moment before she touched the back of Zelda's hand.

  
  
So she could reach between the veil. She was more than just a projection. She was warm and smooth as blood, as well as cool and hard as scales. She didn't hold Zelda, but left such a gentle pressure she couldn't help but move where she directed so as not to lose contact.

  
  
Zelda's palm slid across her own breast at Lilith's guidance, then down across her belly. Lilith's touch vanished before her fingers rested at the apex of her thighs. Zelda arched an eyebrow. "That's what you taught her?"

  
  
"To know her own body. To ask questions, to make demands. Yes. I taught her she could have an appetite for whatever she wished."

  
  
"You just want us to be able to know ourselves." To have the freedom to make their own choices.

  
  
Lilith's gaze drifted down to where Zelda still held her hand. "However you see fit."

  
  
Zelda pulled her hand back up to the arm of her chair, feeling a flush creep up her chest to her neck. Sex and pleasure had never embarrassed her, but her present company added a confusing bend to her thoughts.

  
  
She didn't seem bothered by Zelda's sudden embarrassment. "Read a book for all I care, not everyone hungers for the same thing."

  
  
No wonder she had no interest in worship. Lucifer had perverted what she spoke of now, made them blind slaves to passions rather then let them focus on pursuits which would satisfy them in all ways. “Why not just say these things?”

 

“Why not just tell you what to do?”

 

The sarcastic tilt to Lilith's words made Zelda sigh. “Sharing knowledge is not the same as demanding obedience.” But what seemed like such an easy distinction in her mind suddenly laid a different truth bare. Lilith had not been granted anything in her life that did not come with a heavy price. She had simply never been _given_ anything. She had existed in a world that made her stand alone, without support, where every action was a subjugation to someone else's whims. Mentors did not exist in her mind, only manipulators with their own agendas. As far as she was concerned, if she had told Zelda to do anything it wouldn't have been a suggestion, it would have been a command, and above all else, she wanted them to be able to make their own choices. That had been the point behind everything she had told her in all their meetings, that she was free to do what she wanted, with or without her. That she was beholden to no one, but herself.

 

“Thank you.” Zelda blurted the words before she could think of anything more profound.

 

Lilith looked somewhat taken aback by her sudden fervor. “What?”

 

“Thank you,” she repeated, regaining control of her voice. There was no need to shout, they were in a library after all. Recognition might have been what Zelda craved, but Lilith deserved it. “It isn't blind faith that called me to this. I've seen what you can do.” She had just told her a part of what she had suffered as well. “You crowned yourself Queen of Hell. I can appreciate ambition.”

 

Their eyes were locked, and even if Zelda had wanted to stop, she was not certain she was able.

 

“Thank you for showing us that there is always another path. Thank you for walking away from the lies. From paradise.”

 

Zelda was already shaking when Lilith reached out to her, cupping her face in her hands, and brushing her tears away with her thumbs. Lilith's confusion had given way to wonder at some point, and she slowly leaned forward to rest their foreheads together.

 

“Thank you.”

 

She wasn't sure which of them said it last.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank your friends for the time they give you and when they listen to you talk. It's nice.
> 
> Anywho... Their voices feel more off to me in the chapter than I would like, but I feel like that is a result of trying to get some world building/philosophical stuff across. Trying to put a particular interpretation of a concept into a character voice is a bit tricky. Especially when I am kinda shit at explaining that stuff in my own voice. Anyway, this was more or less me giving a Lilith a chance to give voice to some of her baggage, which hopefully isn't too out of the blue given the fact I generally prefer to write her as very reticent to discuss anything. May the power of friendship give you the strength to discuss some horrific trauma, I guess? Anyway, if the show doesn't let them shack up I can only hope they become good fucking friends after all they've been through.


End file.
